by Joyce Alec
Isabella laughed, despite the ache in her side. “Charles,” she murmured, keeping one hand on his shoulder. “I am quite well, I assure you.” She saw the worry fade from his face and felt his hand catch her free one. “As you can see,” she continued softly. “I do not wish for the house in the country.”
He looked at her for a long time, as though he could not believe what she was saying. Isabella continued to smile at him, her heart almost bursting with happiness.
“You believe that I am no longer the man you first met, then?” he asked, brushing her hair back from her forehead. “You forgive me for the terrible way I treated you?”
“I believe you have changed, and that the recognition of your selfishness was a true one,” she replied softly. “You have always had kindness and compassion in you, Charles. It just took a little time to come to the fore.”
“You brought it to the fore,” he replied at once. “You, my dear sweet Isabella. My oldest friend has shown me the man I should be.” He smiled at her, his eyes filled with such a depth of emotion that Isabella felt her breath catch.
“Say you will live here with me,” he said softly, as his fingers traced the curve of her cheek. “Say you will be my wife, Isabella. I find myself in love with you, truth be told.” He swallowed hard and looked away for a moment. “We will not go to town, but live here, away from the social expectations that have grown so distasteful to me of late. I would have but your company, and yours alone. Say you will marry me, Isabella… My heart longs for no other. This is the only gift I wish for this Christmas and for all my Christmases to come. To have you by my side, for better or for worse.”
Isabella’s answering smile was beautiful, her heart so filled with joy and happiness that she thought it might burst from her. She wanted to laugh and cry all at once, finally feeling as though she had managed to find her way back home.
“But what of your parents?” she questioned. “Do you truly believe they will honor our union?”
“Yes,” Charles answered without hesitation. “I will not marry anyone else, and being that I am an only child, I bear the full responsibility for the future of the dukedom. Besides, you have always been like family to us.”
“Then, my answer is yes. Of course I will, my love,” she replied, lifting her hands to his face. “You have sparked a love in my own heart, one that is deeper than just mere friendship. I will be your wife and live by your side for as many years as we are granted.”
“And we shall be happy,” he murmured, resting his forehead against hers.
“Yes,” Isabella agreed, her voice filled with tenderness. “Yes, my love. We shall be very happy indeed and spend many more Christmas days together.”
“But I cannot imagine that any will be as happy as this one,” he whispered before lowering his head to kiss her tenderly.
***
THE END
If you loved reading this book, discover all the heartwarming romance stories in the Hearts and Ever After Series. All books are stand-alone stories and can be read in any order.
An Earl’s Agreement
An arranged marriage turns dangerous when he will stop at nothing to make her his bride! Will her hero prevail?
Married to a Marquess
After her wedding day, Alice never saw her husband again. She must now take charge of her own life if she is to ever know happiness!
A Viscount’s Second Chance
Henry is thrilled to have a second chance at love, but he risks losing Eleanor again when a scandal threatens to tear them apart!
A Duke for Christmas
Isabella did not want to end up on Charles’ doorstep, but it might be exactly what both of them need… A clean, Regency romance to warm your heart.
Unexpected Earl
Catherine is enamored with Lord Kerr and plans to marry him, but Lord Linton will do all he can to stop the union.
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About the Author
Joyce Alec grew up in Colorado and graduated from college with a degree in business. After developing a passion for books, she spent countless hours reading a variety of genres, but fell in love with sweet, historical romances. Joyce’s passion for reading eventually cultivated into a love for writing, so creating Regency-era tales of love is a dream come true for her.
After planting her roots in Florida, Joyce found another passion: the ocean! In her free time, you can find Joyce at the beach with a big floppy hat, flip-flops, and a vanilla iced coffee in hand. She lives in the Sunshine State with her prince charming and wildly vivacious son.
Bonus Content
Christmas Mystery of the Heart
Text Copyright © 2016 by Caroline Johnson
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.
First printing, 2016
Publisher
Love Light Faith, LLC
400 NW 7th Avenue, Unit 825
Fort Lauderdale, FL 33302
www.LoveLightFaith.com
Christmas Mystery of the Heart
By: Caroline Johnson
Christmas Mystery of the Heart
Chapter 1
England, 1820
Sarah dared not even look behind her, fearing that her father had heard the quiet footsteps she’d taken along the creaky hallway. Standing as though frozen in place, the sound of his snoring met her ears as she breathed a sigh of relief and carefully made her way down the grand staircase. She knew this was her one and only chance to escape him; if he caught her now, then she would be locked up tighter than a prisoner. There would be no second chances. She could no longer wait for the drink to kill him; she was sure that, one day, he’d kill her first. The welts on her back rubbed painfully against her clothes, a reminder of the pain she’d had to endure from her so-called loving father. As usual, there had been no reason for his outburst, but these days, Sarah only had to walk in the room and he would be in a temper, a temper that eventually grew to violence. Violence she could no longer take.
“Almost there!”
The housekeeper, Mary, was waiting for her in the kitchens, a friendly ally in Sarah’s dark life.
“Jack has a horse saddled and waiting.”
Together they eased open the door and walked into the cold, frosty air. The world was still dark; the sun would not rise for a few more hours. A smiling Jack met them, holding the beautiful mare bought especially for her trip. He loaded her bags filled with the dresses and other basics she would need. Sarah was thankful she had scrimped and saved every single penny she could over the last few years, or this never would have been possible.
“Thank you,” Sarah replied quietly, tears filling her eyes as she dropped her bags and embraced Mary. “Please be careful. I cannot imagine what he will do when he discovers I have gone.”
“Now don’t you be worrying about us, m’lady, we’ll be just fine. Now, here are your letters of recommendation
and you know where you are going?”
Sarah swallowed hard, trying to inject some kind of strength into her voice but failing miserably. “Yes, I think so.”
Jack’s hearty voice lifted her spirits. “You can do this, m’lady. Anything’s better than staying with him.”
Sarah nodded and took the proffered hand as Jack helped her into the saddle. The forged letters of recommendation were tucked safely away and, without wanting to prolong her goodbyes, Sarah left. Taking one last look at the house where so much love and so much pain had occurred, Sarah whispered a short prayer for her father’s soul as she rode away.
Sarah kept to the path outlined by both Jack and Mary, the directions memorized thoroughly. The sun slowly began to rise, the winter sun only bringing a little warmth to her frozen bones. She could not rid herself of the fear that clutched her heart as she thought about her father’s wrath, almost certain he was riding after her and would come upon her any moment. Slowly, so slowly, the fear lessened as she rode further and further away from her home. The man she had once loved was now a tyrant, hating her because her mother had played him false. The day her mother died, his anger and violence passed to Sarah, turning him into a monster far beyond anything she had ever imagined. Now she faced an unknown future. If the Duke of Huntington changed his mind or was not impressed with her skills, she would be turned away with nowhere to go.
No, she would not consider that. She had been brought up a lady, and it could not be too difficult to share her knowledge with youngsters. A governess is what the letters said she was, and a governess she must become. No longer was she Lady Sarah Sayers; she was now plain Sarah Brown.
It was almost dark when Sarah reached the Huntington estate, her body barely able to take more punishment. She had ridden all day, only stopping on two brief occasions to allow both herself and her mount some rest and refreshment. She was tired and wet from the many rain showers, her hair plastered to her head. Her whole body was in pain, Sarah crying a little in relief as she approached the gates. She knew it was vastly unusual for a governess to arrive on horseback, but she had her excuses ready. Sarah would explain she had a deep love for her horse and plead for her mount to be stabled on the grounds, as unexpected and as rude as that might be. Sliding down from the saddle, she felt her legs buckle, unable to hold her up. Clinging to the saddle for dear life, she suddenly felt strong arms lift her off the ground, march into the house and placed her, none too gently, on the chaise lounge. Speechless, Sarah attempted to right herself and smooth her dress, realizing the wrinkles were an almost hopeless case. With trepidation, she lifted her gaze to the man before her and saw his dark eyes giving her a thorough assessment.
“Kindly explain who you are and why you are on my property.”
His presence filled the room as she shrank back, his loud voice reminding her of her father’s anger. He was waiting for an answer, and she could not ignore him.
“I am Sarah S-, Sarah Brown, Your Grace,” she squeaked, assuming that this was none other than the Duke of Huntington. “I am your new governess.”
The Duke of Huntington grimaced. He had not expected this mouse to be the governess. He studied her for a moment longer, her dull brown hair in complete disarray and deep blue eyes staring at him anxiously. At least she had some color in her cheeks, but she still appeared so small and inferior, considering his last governess had appeared much more capable, yet still handed in her notice after a few short weeks. How would this quiet creature handle his rambunctious twins?
“You have letters of recommendation?”
Sarah fumbled for a moment before handing over three ribbon-tied letters. She hoped Mary’s forgery would stand up to the test. Oliver, the Duke of Huntington, flicked through them impatiently before turning his gaze back to Sarah.
“I do not think we will suit, I’m afraid. My children are noisy, rambunctious and need a firm hand.” His eyes raked over her form. “I am not convinced that you are capable of doing so.”
At his words, Sarah’s heart began to beat in earnest. Somehow, she had to convince him that she could be a capable governess, able to care for and educate his children. She needed this to be her escape. She rose to her feet, wobbling a little on her unsteady legs.
“Your Grace, I may be small in stature, but that does not prevent me from being firm and authoritative. I have much to teach your children, and I beg you, at least give me an opportunity to prove it to you!”
She hated her pleading tone, wishing she had better hidden her desperation. He was studying her again and, with a lift of her chin, she studied him right back. Dark hair that fell untidily over his ears, and deep brown eyes that seemed to penetrate her very soul. She wanted to look away but knew she must prove her tenacity, meeting his firm gaze with one of her own. She willed the duke to allow her one chance, one opportunity, to change it for the better.
“Very well, Miss Brown, you may stay. However, you will remain only if I am certain that things are going well. Otherwise, I will give you notice.”
A wave of emotion burst over Sarah as she tried to stutter her thanks, instead managing to faint clean away.
Chapter 2
It wasn’t until the following morning that Sarah awoke, finding herself in a narrow but cozy bed, dressed in one of her nightgowns. Completely disorientated, she sat up to hear a quiet knock on the door. Pushing her hair out of her eyes, she watched as the door opened and a maid walked in, smiling at Sarah.
“Good morning, glad to see you are awake at last! I’m Meg, one of the maids here. Mighty worried we were about you, but the master said you’d be right as rain by morning!”
Sarah stared at her for a moment, as it all came flooding back.
“How...how did I get here?”
“He carried you miss, do you not remember? Mind you, you were like a rag doll in his arms! I changed you; your wet clothes have been cleaned and are drying nicely. All your things have been put away too.”
Trying to stand, Sarah found her legs were still wobbly, her whole body protesting at the movement.
“Now, now, miss, you stay right there. There’ll be food up for you in a minute so you can break your fast, then the master’s ordered a bath!”
“A bath?”
“A bath! Just for you! Imagine that, a bath for a governess! He says something about you being all dirty and wet from your ride or some such thing.” Sarah blushed to the tips of her ears. “Then after that,” Meg continued, “you are to meet the children and His Grace in the nursery.”
Her stomach lurching at the thought, Sarah allowed herself to be placed back in bed. Soon there came hot tea and food to break her fast before she was presented with a steaming bath. Sinking gratefully into the hot water, she let her body relax as some the pain melted away. At least now she would be able to walk, instead of collapsing in front of him.
“Can you tell me about the duke?” she asked Meg, soaping her hair. She swore Meg blushed a little before she replied.
“His Grace? Owns this estate and all the land around it. Very wealthy, too. Takes good care of his tenants and us here in the house.” Her cheeks reddened again. “He is a handsome master too, is he not?”
Sarah was quiet for a moment. She supposed he was handsome in some ways, but his tone and loud voice provoked a reaction of fear, not admiration or desire.
“I suppose,” she replied.
At least she knew he was a good master, which said a lot about a man. Over the years, her father’s servants had left their employment until only a few remained. Now that she was gone, she wondered if Mary and Jack would find better positions. She couldn’t blame them if they did.
“What about his children?”
Meg broke into a wide smile. “Ah, the twins. Get into everything those two, but both cute as a button! Just turned but six years old.”
Sarah didn’t smile, the description making her panic over her ability to control and educate the twins to their father’s satisfaction.
“What happe
ned to their mother? The notice for a governess said nothing about her.”
“Oh, she died, miss, a long time ago. The twins were barely a year old when she passed. Didn’t give them much more than a look though, in that year. Was like she didn’t even see them!”
“How sad,” Sarah commented quietly, her heart softening a little.
“She and the duke had been betrothed since infancy,” Meg continued, as though she hadn’t heard her. “There was not any love between them; we were certain of that. You could hear her screaming most days, over anything it seemed!”
Shivering slightly, Sarah got out of the bath and began to dry herself, the memory of her own screams at her father’s hands echoing in her mind.
“A nasty piece of work, she was,” Meg said, handing Sarah her outfit piece by piece. “No one was sad when she died, not even the master, though he did his duty an’ all.”
Clothed in a dark gray, high-collared dress, Sophie stared at herself in the mirror. She looked the part; her long brown hair was swept up into a tightly knotted bun, her hands clasped gracefully in front of her.
“Excellent, Miss. Now, up to the nursery. I’ll show you the way.”
Swallowing a lump in her throat and praying that God would be with her, Sarah nodded and followed after Meg.
The duke had not exaggerated when he called his twins ‘rambunctious.’ Sarah watched them scrambling around the room, playing a game that only the two of them knew, uncaring about the destruction they were causing. The duke, instead of watching them, kept his eye on the little governess, trying to gauge her response. She was hiding her reaction well, although he could tell from the widening of her eyes that she was a little taken aback.
